


Pies, Plaid Pajamas and Power-Drills

by Cerdic519



Series: Bewhipped! [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Adoption, Bees, Blow Jobs, Caring Dean, Castiel in Panties, Chocolate, Collars, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dean in Panties, Destiel - Freeform, Doctor Sexy M.D., Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, F/M, Gardens & Gardening, Gay Sex, Gentle Dom Castiel, Jealous Dean, Lent, M/M, Mechanic Dean, Multiple Orgasms, Pie, Possessive Dean, Pranking, Professor Castiel, Sick Castiel, Sponsored orgasms, Texas, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, role-playing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-01
Updated: 2016-04-30
Packaged: 2018-05-30 12:55:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 11,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6424945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerdic519/pseuds/Cerdic519
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>April in a year of fluff, families, friends and the sort of full-force love and devotion in which professor Castiel has mechanic Dean totally bewhipped. Dean makes it (just) to the end of an expensive, intense and very pleasurable Lenten season, even if certain body parts will never be the same again. Cas enjoys setting out his garden but overdoes things and gets sick, and a handsome new neighbor makes his husband definitely not the least bit jealous. A second social worker visit is markedly more successful than the first (not difficult), while Dean makes new homes for bees. Plus there is a somewhat questionable use of chocolate.....</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sunday 1st April

Dean groaned as he woke up, his body still sore from all his 'exercises' the day before. And there was a delicious smell of cooked food in the bedroom...

“I went out and got you breakfast”, Cas said brightly.

Dean looked at him in terror. There had to be a catch. Thank God this was his last day of this torture (his lower brain started to whine at that, but he told it to shut up). Cas smiled at him, and put something down in the bedside table. It was an old-fashioned hour-glass.

“This measures exactly half an hour”, Cas smiled, tipping it over. “You are not going to leave this room today Dean, except to use the bathroom. And I have a timer on my belt which matches it, so I shall be in every half-hour when it runs out. At which time you are going to come. Each time.”

Dean stared at him in horror, and did a quick mental calculation (his lower brain may have helped). Half-past seven, and they usually went to bed around ten-thirty or eleven, so that was at least fifteen hours, which meant thirty..... oh fuck!

“Don't worry”, Cas grinned. “I shall be naked each time, or wearing panties, or one of your favorite costumes. And I have the ointment ready.”

“Cas!” Dean protested. “I gotta work tomorrow!”

His husband smiled an evil smile.

“Actually Dean”, he said, “you have a lot of work to do today. Starting in about twenty-nine minutes and counting!”

He left the room. The horrible green sand in the hourglass seemed to be running through far too fast.....

+~+~+

Dean Winchester hated his husband.

The very second that sand finished running out, Cas had come back into the room and reminded Dean what day it was. April Fool's Day! As if he would make Dean have orgasms every half-hour! Dean could have orgasms any time he wanted.

Dean still decided to go for it. Impressively (in his eyes) he made it to half-one before his poor broken body needed a rest, but he still managed a few more later. Hey, it was all for a good cause, wasn't it?

His damned husband was smirking again. Right, he'd pay for that! Once Dean was sure which way was up.


	2. Monday 2nd April

Nobody, but nobody questioned Dean Winchester's manliness.

Well, if they did, they didn't do it to his face. But the knowing smirks from his co-workers at the garage were almost as bad, especially as Dean kept wincing every time he moved too suddenly. The only upside was that he'd posted off a sizable check to Wounded Warrior on his way into work that morning, and Cas had insisted on matching his gift with a similar-sized one of his own 'because I enjoyed them as much as you did, Dean, if not more'.

He was underneath a Lincoln, so he allowed himself a soppy grin. God, he loved his husband. He just hoped Cas would be gentle with him that evening.

+~+~+

There was a surprise waiting for Dean when he got home that evening – a new pair of fleecy pajamas in garish green plaid, on the steps between the garage and the kitchen. Praying silently that his husband wouldn't be cruel enough to snap a picture of him in them and send it to Sammy, he changed into them and walked through to the dimly-lit living-room.

Cas was sat on the huge couch, wearing his own blue pajamas with white clouds on. The main light was off, the only light coming from the TV. Dean quirked an eyebrow at him.

“A reward for all your efforts these past weeks”, Cas smiled, showing him a pile of take-out menus. “You can have whatever you like delivered tonight, and we can just binge-watch your choice of TV. Even that medical soap-opera you fangirl over.”

“'M not a fangirl”, Dean muttered, easing down to lie next to his gorgeous husband. “And 's'not a soap opera.”

“It's just usually on every afternoon”, Cas teased, pulling him into a gloriously relaxing hug. “Still, anything for my wonderful 'giving' husband.”

Dean sighed happily. He was one lucky son of a bitch at times!


	3. Tuesday 3rd April

Dean had planned to have the week after next off so he could work on the garden (he had deliberately not timed it to Cas' spring break, because he had guessed that if he had have, there would have been precious little gardening done!). However Ash had gotten a wedding invitation the day before, and as the thing was in Hawaii of all places, Bobby had asked Dean if he was okay having next week off instead. Reluctantly, Dean had agreed.

“It seems very short notice for a wedding invite”, Cas commented as they lay in bed after some slow and very satisfying morning sex.

Dean blinked. His mind had wandered off to a very pleasant image of Cas in a grass skirt on an island beach, his broad bare chest glistening in the Pacific sun. And then fucking Dean whilst wearing just that grass skirt.

“The groom's in the Marines”, he explained, “and he's liable to be called up at short notice. When he proposed last month, they decided to have the wedding ASAP. His family are rolling in it; they paid for Ash's plane ticket and hotel.”

“I would ask if you were jealous”, Cas smiled, “but I know how much you love planes. Even to somewhere as nice as that.”

“If man was meant to fly, God would've given us wings”, Dean pouted.

Cas ran a hand down his husband's chest, and Dean sighed happily.

“I suppose I could dig out my kit from History Week”, Cas said. 

His husband looked at him in confusion.

“Huh?”

“The grass skirt”, Cas smiled. “You could dress up as the noble European explorer, and I could be the savage native who captures you and then subjects you to my every whim.”

“Every whim?” Again, Dean sounded like he'd been at the helium again.

“Every. Single. Whim!” Cas growled.

Hot damn!


	4. Wednesday 4th April

Although it was spring break at the college Cas still had a crap-ton of papers to attend to, but he had worked flat out Monday and Tuesday so he could devote today to finalize his plans for the garden. Dean had been more than a bit concerned to come the evening before and find his husband fallen asleep over a pile of papers. Cas hadn't even woken when Dean had lifted him and carried him to the couch so he could rest in comfort, though he had smiled hazily and muttered something about bees. Cute bastard!

It had been another busy day at the garage but Dean knew his husband was keen to show him all his plans, and Bobby was okay with him coming in early and working through his lunch so he could go home to his man. Today he found Cas in the back garden, still fretting over all the possibilities. 

“I want five garden areas, with borders around each of them”, he said, pushing his overly long hair out of his eyes. “And two water-butts between the utility room and the garage, where the down-pipe can be fed into them. And a hedge along the border with the wood; it's much more natural than a fence, since we need some protection. And.....”

Dean gently took his husband by the shoulders and kissed him. Cas seemed to melt into his embrace.

“You can have anything you want, Cas”, he promised. “Just remember, we've only got a week to do it all, especially with you distracting me all the time.”

Cas gave him one of his Looks. The sort that gave his husband the most delicious feeling of absolute terror.

“Well, then I'll just have to see about that, won't I?” he purred.

Dean could hear the Menzies in their garden on the other side of the path. He gave silent thanks for the intervening high (and very solid) walls that prevented them from overlooking them and seeing the quivering wreck that was Dean Winchester. Or that way said quivering wreck fled into the house with what could only be described as a severe case of over-eagerness.


	5. Thursday 5th April

As if Cas didn't have enough things to stress about that week, a letter arrived for them both that morning, announcing that the 're-visit' from Child Services would be in a week's time. Bang in the middle of their gardening makeover.

“Don't worry, angel”, Dean said, kissing his husband's unruly bedhead. “At least it'll show that we're making a better home for Little Destiel.”

“Don't call them that!” Cas pouted. “I hate portmanteaus.”

“What?” Dean was confused.

“Hybrid words made up of bits of other words”, Cas explained. “It was bad enough having that emblazoned on our wedding-cake – I still owe Gabriel for that! And we may get an older child who is happy with his or her name. We should not even be thinking of such things until we've been tested and approved.”

“You make us sound like some sort of sanitary cleaner”, Dean grumbled. “Destiel, kills all germs in and around the house. Destiel washes whiter. Destiel....”

Cas shut him up the most effective way he knew how. Which was highly effective, as always.

+~+~+

Thankfully Cas was much calmer by the evening, though that was partly thanks to a call from Dorothy who had assured him that the assigned worker this time, a Mrs. Andrews, was someone who knew their job, and that because several people who had been 'assessed' by the earlier snooty bitch were now suing the council, their second caller was likely to take a softer line, at least to start with. Besides, if it all went south a second time, he could always get Charlie to....

Damn, now Cas was shaking his head at him! Freaky mind-reading husband!


	6. Friday 6th April

Dean didn't like working on holidays, but he did so for several reasons. First, Bobby was like a father to him, infinitely better in that role than John Winchester had ever been. Second, the old man knew that lots of people traveled over the Easter break whilst both his rivals stayed shut, and in these hard times it made good business sense to grab that trade. And thirdly, most of the other mechanics had families they wanted to be with, so if Dean covered for them at times like these, then they would return the favor later.

Cas, of course, had insisted on tradition, which meant that Dean was not allowed any chocolate until Sunday. Dean was still a bit edgy over what his husband had planned for him as regarded their week doing the garden; he knew anticipation was supposed to be half the fun, but his husband was so damned inventive that Dean's mind was working overtime on the possibilities. Mostly (but not wholly) horizontal ones.

He got home as normal, but there was no sign of his husband downstairs. There was however a large paper arrow pointing to the second floor, so he got naked and collared before heading up. Cas, presumably was taking a nap in their bedroom.

Cas was indeed in their bedroom. But he was not taking a nap. No sirree, he was most definitely not taking a nap. He was splayed out on the bed, a small brown jar on the table next to him. As Dean watched (and tried to remember how to breathe), he dipped his finger in it and ran it down his broad chest, leaving a brown streak that was undeniably....

“Because you've been such a good boy lately”, Cas said in Sex Voice Number One, “I thought you could have a little chocolate before Sunday.”

How Dean did not come standing at the door, he did not know. Somehow one of his brains (he wasn't sure which one) managed to get his legs to move, and he lumbered over to kneel between Cas' open legs, then leaned forward and started licking at the chocolate trail.

“By the way”, Cas whispered, “this is part one” - Dean's eyes widened - “because tomorrow I am going to let you use me any which way you like. Carry on, Dean.”

Fuck!


	7. Saturday 7th April

Waking up on Saturday to an actually awake Cas was very unusual. Waking up next to a naked Cas, less so. But waking up next to Cas who had a folded card on his chest with 'any which way you like' on it? Dean nearly had a seizure!

Because that day, Cas put him through Heaven, Hell, Purgatory and all points west! Dean got to have sex with his husband in every room in the house and in a whole load of positions (Cas, of course, was flexible enough to do it upside-down, dammit!). And the scruffy sex maniac must have planned this; there were precooked meals in the fridge that just needed slapping in the microwave, which was good because it meant more time for sex. Which meant that Dean had more time to be reduced to a quivering jelly!

The only bad thing about the day was a surprise call from Sammy, who as usual was the worst cock-block in history. Calling whilst Dean was carrying his husband around the house impaled on his dick was bad enough, but Sammy must have known something was up because the moose kept prolonging the call. Fortunately his wonderful husband then decided that enough was enough, and a sudden burst of orgasmic groans had the younger Winchester ending the call very, very suddenly, yelling about being scarred for life. 

Dean thanked his helpful husband in the only way he knew how.

By the evening Dean was a wreck. It should not have been possible, what with his choosing all the positions, all the options – but Cas, with his laser-like focus, was making every choice so intense that Dean wondered if he'd be less working in the garden and more being buried beneath it alongside the late Fluffy! 

Thankfully, he had Cas. Who would never tell Sammy that, given so much choice, Dean had opted to end the day with a prolonged cuddle session. No, Cas would never tell on him for such a ridiculous indulgence.

Uh, would he?


	8. Sunday 8th April

It would have ill-suited his manly standing as a manly man, so when he woke up that Easter Sunday and there was not a giant Easter egg from his husband waiting for him on the bedside table, Dean did not pout. Nor did he sulk when there was no egg downstairs. He'd sounded off about the commercialization of holidays often enough, and presumably Cas had taken him at his word. He was not disappointed, not even one tiny little bit.

All right, dammit, he was! Cas knew him well enough to realize that when Dean Winchester ranted about such things, what he really meant was that he would so appreciate a gift to mark the season, despite it all. Hell, what sort of a husband did he have that couldn't understand that Dean never meant what he said?

He was still not-pouting when he cooked their roast dinner, Cas having promised to sort out dessert from Dean's favorite local bakery. At least there would be pie.

“I decided to get you something else”, Cas told him as he crossed to the fridge. “You can't have apple or cherry pie every day for dessert, Dean.”

“Why not?” his husband pouted. Today was getting steadily worse.

Then he saw what Cas had placed on the table, and his jaw dropped. It was a regular pie – except it was made completely out of chocolate. And not just normal chocolate; there was white, plain and milk there, as well as a pastry-edge design to finish it off.

“Pie for my Pie”, Cas grinned. “You didn't think I was going to forget how much you like being treated like a kid in the holidays.”

“Not a kid!” Dean scowled.

“Then perhaps I'd better take this back.....”

Dean's hand shot out and grabbed his husband's wrist. 

“You fucking dare!” he grumbled. “I want that pie!”

Cas just smirked, the bastard!


	9. Monday 9th April

All the supplies Cas was having delivered for the garden were arriving tomorrow, except the water-butts which would come Thursday. That meant that today could be spent getting everything ready. Unfortunately, things rapidly turned out exactly as Dean had feared when he had originally planned for him and Cas to have separate weeks off. His husband scuttled around the garden with a clipboard, stopping Dean every few minutes to worry about something or over, until he finally snapped.

“We need to get a move on”, he said, “or we won't be ready when all those plants arrive. And we want them in the ground as soon as possible.”

Cas' face fell. He had been anxious over this all yesterday, and particularly worried about the cost of everything. 

“Let's start by clearing away all the weeds and crap”, Dean offered. “Then you can get that measuring tape out and make sure all the beds and the same down to the last inch.”

“You make me sound so anal!” Cas complained.

He squeaked when he found Dean suddenly right behind him.

“Don't mention the A-word unless you want to delay us even more!” he growled, quietly pleased at the way he could make his normally unflappable husband shudder like that.

+~+~+

They came back out half an hour later and made better progress, despite Dean wincing when he bent over too suddenly. They worked from opposite ends of the garden to clear the place of weeds and flatten the ground, then Cas marked out where all the paths would be, as well as the hard-standing areas for the compost bucket and water-butts. The five beds were not quite the same size as four of them centred around the rotary washing-line, but it was close enough. Dean could envisage getting the beds done tomorrow, and the planting on Wednesday and Thursday – the day of the Visit. Today was all about getting the basics done and, of course, making Cas happy.


	10. Tuesday 10th April

Cas seemed to be more relaxed after the delivery truck came early that morning and delivered a crap ton of plants. They were stored temporarily in the garage, whilst the soil and fertilizer were taken round the back to the beds.

It turned out (much to a certain green-eyed gardener's annoyance) that there was a whole lot more to planting that just dumping things in he ground. Perhaps, Dean might very grudgingly admit, there had been just cause for Cas to be such a worrywart.

“The higher-strength fertilizer is for the two inner beds”, Cas explained, easily hauling one of the bags over to the nearest bed. He may have looked a complete nerd, but Dean knew there was plenty of muscle under those clothes. “The shade from the house means plants there will get less light.”

Dean came out of a happy daydream and saw Cas looked at him with a knowing smile.

“Just imagining you naked”, Dean grinned.

“Why imagine?” Cas teased back. “Once we have the beds all sorted, we can go indoors and.....”

Dean set to work again with a will.

+~+~+

Of course, Cas cheated. When he mentioned going indoors, he actually meant the garage to get some of the bushes so he could plant them. Meanie! Though the definite upside was that they did get all three back beds fully planted before dark. And it was a definite upside because Cas then insisted on giving him a blow-job by each of them so they could 'christen' them. Which led to Dean being intensely grateful for the high wall between them and the path dividing them from the Menzies' house, because he was sure he heard the obnoxious couple coming out to investigate after the second 'christening', and even Dean Winchester, Grand Master of the Completely Silent Orgasm™, was hard put (in both senses!) not to scream when being fucked in the suburban darkness for a third time!

At least Dean was starting to like gardening!


	11. Wednesday 11th April

Dean had forgotten the paths.

Since they'd got three out of the five beds planted the day before, he'd assumed that even though the two remaining beds had a lot of smaller plants, they'd get that done soon enough. Fitting the water-butts and putting in the hedge along the border with the wood were both scheduled for Friday, so today there would be lots of extra free sexy time.

Except for the paths. Because Cas wanted proper, rustic stone paths, not the quick concrete ones that Dean could have done in a couple of hours, three tops as Benny had said offered to come round and help after work if he was needed. And Cas insisted on proper lining being put down first to deter weeds, even though he was content to let the blighters grow all around the pond. Dammit!

Dean had to admit, though, that the stones Cas had chosen looked the part. It was all very 'English Country Garden', a bit odd as they were several thousand miles from the Old Country, but it was for Cas, and Dean would have done a whole lot more than lay a few paths and plant a crap-ton of greenery.

The great thing about Cas – well, one of the many great things, Dean corrected – was that he actually listened to Dean. Too many people in Dean's life treated him like some sort of dumb jock, but Cas not only listened to him but asked for his advice. And when Dean came up with small changes like making the areas where the paths crossed around the rotary and bird-bath bigger, Cas kissed him and thanked him. Being with Cas made Dean feel truly valued.

By the end of the day all the plants were in, the ground had been dug and prepared for the hedge along the wood border, and the only minor panic had come when Cas had realized he'd forgotten to get some marbles for bird-bath so the insects could more easily use it. Fortunately Dean managed to pick up a couple of bags at the garden center when he went to collect a well-deserved pizza for them both. And it was dark by the time he got back, which meant that after the pizza, they could christen the last two flower-beds.

Which they did. And Dean was so thankful for that large tree (he had no idea what type it was; as far as he was concerned the end without leaves fitted into the ground) which so obligingly blocked out the view from the Menzies' upstairs window!


	12. Thursday 12th April

Dorothy had warned them before this visit not to try to be something they weren't, as Child Services were trained to see through such things. Dean had sent Cas in from their gardening the afternoon before to give the house a good clean anyway, reckoning it would ease his husband's mind over the visit.

Fortunately, Mrs. Andrews (Dean nodded approvingly at the red Oldsmobile Cutlass; '67 had been a good year) turned out to be very different from Ms. Watts. She was slightly older, a little taller and had a sort of no-nonsense vibe about her that she set about proving. Better still, she didn't have a stuck up her ass.

“You seem a nice, happy couple”, she said, “and I am going to make things clear to you. Of the two options that you say appeal to you, I have to say that finding a baby or toddler to raise from scratch is going to very difficult. Not because you are a same-sex couple or because of your jobs, but because there are so few and everyone wants one, and those families that have been together longer tend to get priority. The flip side of that is that the state has many more young children and teenagers who are much harder to place.”

“I am glad to hear that our being gay is not an issue”, Cas said. 

She seemed to hesitate.

“Far from it”, she said. “That was one of the reasons I pushed for an early visit to you both. We have a boy who may be coming into our care very soon, and I think given the circumstances that he and you might fit together well.”

“Why?” Dean asked.

“His name is Benjamin Braeden”, she said. “Just turned three. His mother and father died in a car accident last month, down in Houston. He lives with his paternal grandparents, who are quite elderly and about to go into a retirement home. They are a same-sex couple, and would prefer Ben to be adopted by such as themselves.”

“What about the rest of the family?” Cas asked.

She hesitated.

“The Pendleton's request would not normally sway us”, she said, “but I feel it is only fair to say that there is also the boy's maternal uncle who is being, well, difficult. He does not want to have the boy himself, but he is a lawyer and therefore, I have to say, adept at dragging things out. I would like the matter sorted before he gets the chance to do so.”

“The rest of the family?” Dean asked.

“Either no contact or disinterested”, she said with a sigh. “I could set you up with a weekend stay, perhaps, and see how it goes?”

From the look on his husband's face, Dean all but knew it was less 'goes' and more 'already gone'.


	13. Friday 13th April

It wasn't until Dean was actually planting the hedge that he realized what day it was. And what made him realize was one of the branches suddenly flicking up and catching him somewhere painful.

“What's wrong?” Cas asked, running out of the house (thankfully he avoided the paths, which had to be given time to 'settle', apparently). “I heard you scream.”

“Didn't scream”, Dean said defensively. “This damned hedge you bought, it was all tied up with twine to make it easier to move. One of the bits came undone, that was all.”

Cas' concern melted away, to be replaced by a smirk.

“Where did the nasty bush attack you, Dean?”

“Hey, screw you!” Dean grumbled. “This thing didn't come with instructions!”

“It's a bush, Dean”, Cas said patiently. “They've been around for several hundred million years, even before dinosaurs walked the earth. Did you do something to provoke it?”

Dean grumbled some more, then used his scissors to cut at a second piece of twine. Again, a branch shot out and caught him on the bare leg. He yelped.

“Never mind”, Cas said. “When you're done, come inside, and I'll kiss it better.”

Dean perked up. Maybe bushes weren't so bad after all.

+~+~+

Castiel very kindly kissed Dean seven times, once for each time the vicious, evil plant had struck out at him. Well, what did he expect on Friday the thirteenth. But the kisses were awesome.

He may have slightly exaggerated the number he got hit. By approximately two hundred and fifty per cent.


	14. Saturday 14th April

Having Cas as a husband, Dean had developed a sort of 'Cas-dar' that usually warned him in advance of potentially difficult situations. The only problem was, Cas knew him just as well, and was a devious little fucker.

Well, not that little. Dean had made the mistake of trying to rouse Mr. Comatose from his duvet cocoon before he was ready that morning, and Cas had retaliated with a very satisfying (and very, very thorough) pounding of his husband into the mattress, before actually falling asleep again whilst still inside of him, his arms wrapped tightly around his 'inconsiderate' husband. Not that Dean had minded that much....

When it came to their weekly shopping, their regular stop was the huge Wal-Mart on the way into town. However, today Cas had said he fancied a change, so they had gone to the smaller mom-n'-pop place further down the road. Dean had been surprised as it was probably a bit more expensive, but he hadn't questioned it. 

Until he came out into the car park and Cas mentioned that the garden center where they'd got all the stuff was just across the road. Sneaky little shit! Dean stared sharply at him, but Cas had years of experience staring down students, and his husband huffed and looked away before his eyes started watering. 

Cas fell in love with a sort of mini-wicket-fence for plant beds which, Dean had to admit, did sort of match their regular fence. The price was extortionate, and he didn't fail to notice that Cas had worked out exactly how many yards he'd need for all their new beds. Dean did however draw the line at some expensive solitary bee homes, which were basically logs with holes drilled into them. He promised Cas that he would make some himself. 

His husband got into a discussion with one of the assistants who, Dean very quickly spotted, was eyeing his husband's butt. Yup, it was definitely worth looking at, but it was also the property of one Dean Winchester Esquire. He draped a warning arm over Cas' shoulder (there may or may not have been a possessive growl in there as well) and ostensibly flashed his ring at him, earning himself a rueful smile. At least the guy gave them one good tip; they could make a pile of fallen branches from the nearby wood, which would encourage insects and therefore birds. Dean was not overly fond of animal life in general, but for Cas.... well, for Cas he'd do anything.

Even make homes for nasty little stinging critters!


	15. Sunday 15th April

Occasionally, Castiel Winchester surprised his husband (no, apart from that!). Just when Dean was sure he knew how his angel would react to a given situation, Cas would go and do the exact opposite.

“I don't think we should do much to the nursery.”

Dean looked up, surprised. With their potential son due to visit for a weekend sometime soon, he had expected his husband to go into full panic mode.

“Not gonna redecorate the whole thing before he gets here?” he asked. He knew Cas tended to panic over things like this, and had fully expected a full redecoration breakdown.

“He is three years old”, Cas pointed out. “By that age, they have definite opinions as to what they like and dislike. I think that when he comes here, and if it works out, then we should tell him that the room can be decorated any way he likes. Pink curtains and rainbows if he likes.”

Dean shuddered at the image. Cas grinned.

“You have a thing against the color pink?” he teased.

“Manly men do not like a girly color like pink”, Dean said firmly.

And without warning, Cas suddenly shucked his top and pulled off his sweatpants. Which would have been more than good enough for Dean – hey, he had married this piece of living art - except his husband was wearing Dean's frilly pink panties!

“Still think it's a girly color, Dean?” Cas asked lightly.

With an effort, his husband stopped hyperventilating and managed some of those tricky things called words. Some as in two.

“Upstairs!” he snarled. “Now!”

+~+~+

All right, pink had its place, Dean had to admit. Especially when Cas made him wear the damned panties himself later that day. Out on their walk. At least the damned things almost matched the color of Dean's face when they stopped to talk to Mrs. Tran, a conversation his bastard of a husband deliberately prolonged, damn him!

Dean made him pay for that later, though.


	16. Monday 16th April

Dean was not crying. He was not!

Who was he kidding? God, Cas had to be the most adorable creature in all creation at the best of times, but when like today he woke up sick and with a fever – Dean just wanted to stay home and in bed with his angel, cross-infection be damned. 

Cas, who spent his life helping kids realize their true potentials. Cas, who never took a day off work unless forced to – his last illness, he had tried to get up and collapsed, and Dean would've been done for speeding to get to him from the garage had it not been Sheriff Mills on the other side of the speed camera (she had visited him later for a mild ticking-off, though). Cas, who cared for all of God's creatures, even the disgusting ones that no-one else did. His wonderful Cas, sick.

It was at times like this that Dean thanked God for an understanding boss. Bobby knew what he was like at times like this, and for once did not bark at him for texting on the job. He even got the guys in the garage to back off from commenting on it, and made sure that Dean had a full lunch hour in which to dash home and check up on the invalid. And if his mechanic was a little late back and his faced looked decidedly tear-stained, well, Bobby put him in the front office and let him be.

Best. Surrogate father. Ever!

+~+~+

Cas usually applied the same strict dietary rules to himself as to his husband, one of the many things Dean loved about him, but he knew that when sick, Cas would allow himself the odd extra indulgence. So if Dean stopped on his way home for a bottle of massage oil, several boxes of Cas' awful tea, Cas' favorite fancy European chocolates, six bottles of that weird English ale he liked and a final call at Whataburger (Bobby had let him go an hour early, thankfully), then he was just being a good husband.

And when Cas cried at all that thoughtfulness, Dean held his sweaty, fevered husband close and whispered words of comfort to him. God, he loved his adorkable little dork so much!


	17. Tuesday 17th April

One of the few things worse that sick Cas was recovering Cas. Because, being the angel he was, he wanted to get back to work as soon as possible, feeling that he was depriving his students of their education. But after Dean had had to catch him when he had tried to stand up that morning, the mechanic had made Cas promise not to go in. He only hoped his angel would keep his word.

Fortunately, Cas had a visitor that morning; his college principal, Missouri Moseley. Dean was generally not afraid of the female of the species - apart from Linda Tran, Charlie, Ellen and Jo Harvelle.... alright - but he made an exception (addition) in her case; she was the sort who could walk into a classroom of stroppy students and make an observer smell the fear. Dean privately thought she viewed the students as a barely necessary evil, an impediment to her otherwise smooth-running educational establishment. She was also scrupulously fair; Dean remembered how one student had come close to getting expelled after they had whined about someone who they disliked being invited onto campus. 

Fortunately, she also had a heart of gold, as Dean discovered when he came by at lunch. She had told Cas that if she saw him in college before Thursday at the earliest, there would be violence.

“Yeah”, Cas told him when he popped home that lunchtime. “She said to tell you that it's your responsibility to make sure I stay off my feet, otherwise she knows where you work!”

Dean leered at him.

“Oh, I can definitely make sure you stay off your feet!” he chuckled. “Keeping you horizontal is never a problem, Cas!”

+~+~+

The way Dean looked at it, he was doing his husband a favor. The smaller man had fallen asleep immediately after Dean had fucked him long and hard as requested, so Dean knew he would be well-rested as a result, even if he had had to hurry back to work afterwards.

“Some doctor you are!” Bobby grumbled as he sauntered in beaming. “I know that look!”

Dean smirked. Doctor Sexy, he was!

“Just looking after my angel”, he grinned, before diving into a vomit-yellow Lexus. Some people had no taste!


	18. Wednesday 18th April

Cas was better this morning, with just a runny nose and a slight headache, but no fever. Fortunately Missouri had brought him a whole load of stuff he could work on at home before returning to work the following day, although when Dean woke up and found Cas sat marking in bed next to him – well! His husband knew full well that wearing the Sexy Reading Glasses™ anywhere near a certain horny mechanic was just asking for trouble!

Cas did grumble as to how he was going to explain to some of his students just why their work had got so creased, but Dean just pulled him into a snuggle until his protests died off and he fell back to sleep again. He would have let him stay there all day, but he had work of his own to go to. Very, very reluctantly.

His husband must have been feeling better, because today he had made Dean lunch (or possibly it was a subtle hint not to come home and check up on him?). Still, Dean worried. Thankfully Cas texted him throughout the day, which helped.

When Dean got home, he could hear the radio going in the kitchen, which meant Cas was marking at the table there (he preferred it to his study, which was too small for a computer and separate table area). Dean quickly got naked and collared, and padded in to find Cas wearing those damned glasses again. His husband gave him a quick smile and returned to his work. Well, that would just not do.

Dean slipped under the table and worked his way up to where Cas was sitting, then slowly began to lower his sweatpants. His husband was wearing those ridiculous white long boxers, or 'granny panties' as Dean called them, but at least they allowed him access to the goods inside. Moving carefully – Cas would tell him to stop if he really wanted to – he began to jerk him off, enjoying the happy little moans from above and the way the muscles in his husband's gorgeous legs were clearly straining. And when he knew he was about to come, he swallowed him down in one move, earning himself a final and perfect moan before Cas came violently.

He slipped out from under the table, wiped his mouth and smirked.

“Feeling better?” he asked. Cas was panting heavily, but grinning.

“Oh yeah!”

Damn, but Dean was good to his husband!


	19. Thursday 19th April

Cas was unusually quiet when Dean got home that evening. They chatted lightly as they ate dinner together, but Dean could tell that something was on his husband's mind.

“You settle back in okay today?” he asked, once they were safely snuggled up on the couch.

Cas seemed to hesitate.

“The students seemed very happy to have me back”, he said, sounding oddly unsure.

“Course they're happy!” Dean scoffed. “Hot professor with the sexy glasses prowling up and down in front of them, talking in that damned sex voice of yours? If I had reason, I'd enrol just for that!”

“I think it may have been because Principal Moseley took my classes whilst I was off”, Cas said. 

“You think too little of yourself, Cas”, Dean protested. “They love you.”

“Not literally, I hope”, his husband smiled.

“Oh, I love Professor Novak!” Dean teased in a squeaky voice. “And I would love if he would give me extra credit in return for a blow....”

“Dean!”

“Bet they have secret fantasies about you all the time.”

His husband was unusually silent at that. Dean looked at him in surprise.

“I may have seen one or two.... inappropriate comments on one or two of their efforts”, Cas admitted. 

“Told ya!” Dean said triumphantly. “Now, professor, how about your dick teaching my butt a few lessons?”

Cas suddenly grabbed for Dean's dick.

“I have other ideas”, he grinned.

+~+~+

A fucking multiplication test!

Literally! Cas fucked him and then asked him math questions, this to a husband who was grudgingly numerate but could not reasonably be expected to do complex things while his husband was doing things to his prostate that were oh my god right there baby hallelujah praise the Lord! Though Cas did reward him for getting right answers. At least, it may have been a reward. Or a punishment. Dean wasn't sure.

“At least you didn't make me do spelling!” he grumbled later.

Four seconds later, his brain caught up with his mouth. But by the look on his husband's face, it was four seconds too late. Fuck!


	20. Friday 20th April

Heaven's Scent was the sort of shop that Dean Winchester would not normally be caught dead in. They sold soaps, bath products and girly perfumes, at more than double the price the same stuff (or as good as) could be had from Wal-Mart. But because he was such a good husband, he was entering the lion's den. For Cas.

His husband had texted him not long after lunch, in a rare panic. He had received a call from Mrs. Andrews asking if she could bring Ben for a visit the weekend after next, from Friday to Sunday. Dean was not sure if it was a good thing or not that Cas finished earlier than him on Fridays, because of course the little nerd had immediately rushed home and begun to clean the house from top to bottom, even though the boy would not be there for another seven days. So Dean swallowed his pride and uttered a prayer to whatever god was listening that no-one saw him in this dump, and went inside.

It was nauseating, especially the pungent aroma of mixed scents that had Dean's eyes watering. Fortunately he knew exactly what Cas needed to de-stress, a hideously expensive 'Heart of Texas' bath bomb that smelled somewhere between lavender and honey. In, out and done.

+~+~+

Cas eyed the huge yellow bag in surprise.

“Thought you needed some you-time”, Dean said dismissively. “I got you you a Texas bath-bomb, some of that stuff you put on your pillow, that honey soap you like and.....”

The rest of his shopping list (five more items) was lost as Cas flew into his arms and kissed the living daylights out of him. He was making that almost-keening noise that, Dean had learned, meant that he was so happy he was close to tears. Indeed, the mechanic could feel him shaking. He was more than happy to hold him until he was himself again.

“We're ordering pizza tonight”, Dean said firmly, “diets be damned! And then I'll run you that bath.”

“I love you so much, Dean!”

“Love you too, angel.”

Maybe Cas cleaning was a good thing. All that damn dust was making Dean's eyes water, though.


	21. Saturday 21st April

Thankfully they were both up and dressed when Benny knocked at the front door. Dean opened it to see his friend standing there holding a small saw.

“Huh?”

“Cas asked to borrow this”, Benny grinned. “I'm guessing he's not told you yet what he plans to use it for?”

Dean felt his stomach drop.

“Thought not”, the Cajun grinned. “I won't ruin the surprise. See ya!”

Bastard!

+~+~+

It was lightly raining, but Cas insisted that they go out. He also had two of those huge IKEA bags from somewhere, which was as close as Dean ever wanted to get to that particular torture house. They went through the gap in the hedge into the wood.

“I want to make a long stack of wood along the wall side of the pond”, Cas explained. “Fallen branches only; nothing still living. Remember the guy in the shop said that it would attract insects, food for birds.”

Dean scowled as he remembered Mr. Leering Looks. So that was what the saw was for.

“We also need to put aside one or two of the larger ones so I can create those bee homes you wanted”, he reminded him. 

“Five sets”, Cas smiled. “I left a small area in each of the flowerbeds for them. And I got some special stuff to treat them with so they don't attract other insects, only the bees.”

Dean kissed him, and set to work with a will. 

+~+~+

By the end of the day they had enough wood for two long piles of logs and branches, along the wall and garage sides of the pond, and Dean took the five largest bits into the garage, promising to drill holes in them the next day. He might even have done it that evening, but Cas insisted on rewarding him for all his efforts, and Dean just felt he had to let him. Because he was such a good husband.

All right, he was a good husband who could not sit down without wincing. But Cas looked so damn proud at his 'achievement' that, yeah, Dean could grin and bear it. Well, bare it; he was too sore to manage clothes below belt level!


	22. Sunday 22nd April

Typically, the day they were not outside all the time was a much better day. Cas was out all morning doing some charity work for the church, so Dean quickly finished his five logs then took the cleaned saw back to Benny. The two of them were chatting over beers in the Cajun's front garden when a red Mini drew up outside the house opposite, followed by a large removal van. 

“That'd be Mr. Bradley”, Benny said. “He said he was moving in today.”

“What's he like?” Dean asked.

A man got out of the Mini, and Dean wondered why he had such a ridiculously small car for his tall frame. He looked to be in his twenties, had blond if not almost white hair, and even from this distance Dean could tell he was good-looking. Benny chuckled.

“He made a good impression on your Cas, the first time he called”, he said. “And Andrea, for that matter. She didn't get the whole story, but he came into money because his mother was related to some earl or other over there. There was the usual legal rigmarole, but he's got enough cash to live off for the rest of his life, she said. Moved over here last year and lived in motels for a bit, until he could get his own joint.”

Dean's eyes narrowed, and Benny wisely shut up. He knew Dean often had a low opinion of himself, and that he was always more than a bit amazed that he had been lucky to land someone as brilliant as Cas. Which meant that, despite his often brash exterior, Dean was vulnerable. A handsome stranger moving into the neighborhood was only gonna add to his worries.

Benny wisely refrained from adding that his wife had returned from her meeting with their neighbor opposite stating that she was sure he was gay. That was all Dean needed. But the Cajun would be keeping a watchful eye across the road, just in case.


	23. St. George's Day

Cas stared at him incredulously.

“Dean Winchester”, he said slowly, a knowing smile (the one his husband hated) creasing his handsome features. “I do believe that you are jealous.”

Dean's case was probably not helped by the flush that, disobligingly, chose that moment to run the length of his body. And as he and Cas were lying naked in bed after some very satisfying early morning sex, his husband saw it in full. Cas chuckled, and ran a hand over Dean's chest.

“You really think that just because an attractive gay man moves in next door but one, that I'm gonna go round there and jump him?”

“Course not”, Dean scoffed, looking everywhere but into those too-knowing blue eyes. “But you know what some guys are like. I mean, you're a hottie, especially with those glasses and that sex-hair.”

“You never know”, Cas grinned. “Our new neighbor may actually have a preference for hunky green-eyed mechanics.”

Dean preened.

“Well, with my body.....” he began.

Too late he realized that there was no good way out of that sentence. Then Cas sighed, reached over and put his glasses back on again. Dean gulped.

+~+~+

It was worth the pain of not being able to sit down all day, coming to work knowing just how much Cas owned his butt. Even if Bobby took one look at his wincing by the locker and muttered 'idjit' before placing Dean in the office all day. With the comfortable chair. And the cushions.

Dean was even able to rise above little annoyances like coming home and finding that Cas had delivered a specially-ordered cake ('he's English and it is St. George's Day, Dean') to their new near neighbor. To be fair Cas had also gotten his husband a pie, but annoyingly had arranged for them to meet the Englishman at Benny's house for drinks the following evening. Yes, Dean rose above all that. He was not sulking. Not one little bit. 

Shut up!


	24. Tuesday 24th April

They walked the short distance back to their house in silence. Dean looked everywhere but at his husband, but he still knew that Cas had that Look on his face, the one that said a certain husband was in a whole heap of trouble. 

Once they were inside Dean reached for his collar, only for Cas to put a restraining hand on him and instead guide him into the living-room.

“What was all that about?” he asked softly.

Dean shuddered. Cas hardly ever got angry, but this quiet confusion was, if anything, worse. The new guy, the Englishman, had seemed all right, but Dean probably hadn't reacted all that well to his polite handshake, wrapping his arm around Cas and pointedly flashing his ring. And loudly remarking that they were husbands. And growling at the newcomer.

Perhaps just a very slight overreaction. Cas sighed.

“You know I would never look at another man as long as I have you, Dean, he said.

“You got him a cake”, Dean sulked.

“As a 'welcome to the neighborhood' gift. And I got you pie at the same time.”

Dean pouted. His husband sighed.

“I can see that I am going to have to prove to you just how much I love you”, he smiled. “Get naked, then bring me the paddle.”

“You said no spankings for six months, remember?” Dean snarked.

Cas grinned evilly. Dean felt a sudden and delicious tremble of terror.

“If you recall my exact words”, the shorter man growled, “I said that I would not be spanking your delicious butt until mid-August. I do not recall mentioning anything about not spanking other parts of your anatomy!”

Dean's eyed widened in terror. Oh fuck!

+~+~+

Two hours later, Dean was lying semi-comatose on top of his husband on their bed. There were no sheets; Cas had spanked the tops of Dean's legs until they were raw, and gone all around his cock without actually touching it, yet that alone had made Dean come. Twice. And now Cas was easily supporting his weight whilst Dean floated in some supremely happy place, holding tight into his husband. His evil, twisted, wonderful husband, who could not have thought of anything worse.

Except later that evening, Dean had to retract that belief. Because Cas, the bastard, made Dean stand there butt-naked in the middle of the living-room whilst he applied the healing balm with such tenderness that the mechanic was reduced to tears. And then Cas fed him pie, and took him back upstairs to make love to him, all the time whispering how much he adored him. Dean loved his husband so much!


	25. Wednesday 25th April

“Ye Gods, what is that?”

Dean glared at Krissy across the office. Thankfully Bobby had taken one look at him, muttered something that sounded suspiciously like 'the other idjit called', and had dispatched him to desk work. Where even the padded chair and the silk panties he was wearing – the second pair; Cas had been so aroused by the first ones that he had jerked Dean off in them, and they had had to go into the wash – did not stop him from sitting down very, very carefully. He was still gloriously sore, though, and he cherished every ache and twinge.

“It's a hickey”, he snarked as he gently lowered himself. “Never seen one before?”

“What, is Cas going for the world's largest hickey record?” she grinned. “You are so whipped!”

“Yeah”, he grinned. “I'm one lucky bastard!”

+~+~+

About twelve hours later, and Dean was seriously reconsidering that opinion. He and the guys at work had gotten a free meal for eight at a local restaurant courtesy of a rush repair job on the owner's car, so each of them was bringing their partner (even Ash, who amazingly had found someone as strange as him). It was, Dean was relieved to find, the sort of place which didn't charge three times the price for portions a third the normal size, and he should have enjoyed it. 

Except Andrea had to go and ruin everything. She spent far too long eulogizing about their new neighbor, and the only upside of it was that Dean got the full story about the man's arrival in the area. It seemed that, last year, the old Earl of Bradstock had died, and since he didn't have any children, the title went to a nephew of his. However, he had left a huge part of his wealth – several million – to Parker Bradley's mother, who had been a girlfriend of his many moons ago. He must have still held a candle for her, because he'd gone to the trouble of making the will legally watertight, despite considerable efforts by said partly-disinherited nephew to grab the money back. She had married a Texan, from somewhere down on the coast, but he had died not long after and she had returned to England, where she had raised her son until her own death just a couple of years ago. The case had left their new neighbor feeling a change was necessary, as as he didn't like big cities, he had decided to come here. 

Joy, Dean thought sourly as he chewed on a bread stick. Moderately good-looking and a millionaire to boot. As if he could ever hope to compete with.....

“I see a second lesson is in order”, Cas whispered to him in a low voice. “Tonight I shall be wearing a new pair of panties I bought for myself today. Virtually transparent, Dean!”

And with that the sexy tease leaned back and went on eating, savagely biting off a bread stick with a knowing smirk. Fucker! And the rest of them could shut up with those knowing looks of theirs as well!


	26. Thursday 26th April

Dean sat down very carefully on the padded chair, ignoring Krissy's sniggering from across the office. He had been semi-dazed that morning after Cas and his new panties the night before, and the sexy bastard had then gone and sent him a text just after morning break.

The panties had survived after all, and Cas had worn them to work. Fucker! Dean had had to hide in the bathroom until his boner had gone down again.

He was not even logged in before Bobby told him they had a customer, and it was someone he knew. Unfortunately it was his new neighbor.

Dean would if forced (on pain of loss of pie) have admitted that Parker Bradley was sort of good-looking, in the loosest sense of the word (though as Andrea had said, with his money he could look like a horse and still pull in the punters). His glasses were obviously designer, he wore casual clothes, and Dean could see that he was built. Dammit!

“I've brought my car in for a service”, the man said with an easy smile. “It seems all right, or at least it survived being shipped over, but I wanted to make sure.”

Dean wished he could tell the guy to go elsewhere, but Bobby would have skinned him alive. Or worse, tattled on him to Cas, who had an apparently unlimited imagination when it came to punishing Dean Winchester. 

“We can take a look at it”, he said gruffly. “Leave us a number, and we'll get someone to give you a call in an hour or so. If it needs anything major doing, you may need to bring it in again, but if it's only minor we'll offer to do it straight away.”

The Englishman looked at him curiously.

“Castiel said he works at the college?” he said.

“He does”, Dean said warily.

“I'm looking for a part-time job”, Parker smiled, producing a damned personal calling-card which he handed to Dean. “Perhaps I might try there, once my car is done. Call me later.”

He smiled as he strode out of the garage. Dean glared at his crap car, and started to think options for sabotage.....

He realized that Benny was looking at him across the garage, and sighed heavily. If he tried even something minor it was bound to get back to Cas, who would make him (and his butt) rue the day. Dammit!

+~+~+

He got another text that afternoon. Apparently Cas had shucked the panties and was now going commando! Dean nearly had a fit!


	27. Friday 27th April

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severe fluff alert!

As if he needed any more reasons to get stressed, Dean received a text from Cas just as he was finishing lunch. Mrs. Andrews was going to be late with Ben; the boy's grandparents had had to be evacuated from their house due to a chemical fire in their neighborhood, though thankfully Ben was all packed and ready when she did eventually track them down to a local church center. Dean guessed that the old folks would be grateful to have the boy off their hands, given the circumstances. 

Bobby, of course, caught him texting back and asked what was up. When Dean told him, he insisted on his leaving an hour early so he could be there when the boy arrived, rather than rolling up just after him. Dean was grateful for that, especially as he knew that it would make Cas that much calmer. He texted his husband back immediately, then returned to work.

+~+~+

It was, Dean thought, like something out of a fifties sitcom; all they needed was Endora floating over the fireplace! Fortunately Mrs. Andrews had had to pull over to give Ben a bathroom break, and had taken the opportunity to text that she was only fifteen minutes out. Dean had at that point managed to get Cas back down to mildly frantic, so that of course had set him off again, and the mechanic had suggested they wait at the open door for the boy to arrive.

Mrs. Andrews' car pulled up and she got out before helping Ben out of his child seat. The boy looked older than his three years, his hair the same ash-blond as Dean's own, an uncertain look on his face. The social worker ushered him up the path towards the waiting men.

“Ben”, she said calmly, “this is Dean, and Castiel.”

The boy looked uncertainly at Dean first, then at Cas, who even in the mild April breeze was looking as windblown as ever (Dean wisely decided not to mention the undone shirt button in case he totally freaked out). Ben must have stared at his husband for at least a minute before he hurtled forwards and grabbed him round the legs.

“Papa!”

And Dean's heart broke.


	28. Saturday 28th April

Mrs. Andrews had explained that Ben might react in that way yesterday, but Dean still felt a little jea.... put out at the boy's reaction to them both. Apparently both he and Cas were physically not too dissimilar to the boy's grandparents, and one of them was quite like Cas in appearance. Still, at least Dean wasn't the mom here!

“Will you be adopting me?”

Oh, and his potential son was direct. Cas smiled at him as he placed a large sliced-up pepperoni pizza on the table between the three of them, and the boy beamed back. 

Just put out. Nothing more. No way. And if that was a smirk on his husband's face, there would be trouble once the kid was gone!

“We spoke about that with Mrs. Andrews”, Cas said. “We would adopt you as our son, yes.”

“Would I have to change my name?”

“We decided that your surname should be your choice”, Cas said, placing a slice of pizza in front of the boy. “Legally you can't do it yourself until you reach eighteen, but we agreed that on your ninth birthday, halfway there, you can change your surname to ours if you want. Or leave it as it is. It will be totally your decision.”

Ben seemed to think about that for a moment.

“You two will have sex while I'm here, I suppose?”

Dean narrowly avoided coughing all over the pizza. What the fuck?

“Yes”, Cas said. “Adults do. Is that a problem, Ben?”

The boy shrugged, then looked speculatively at Dean before turning back to Cas. He could swear that he was thinking, 'Papa could do so much better'.

“Is there dessert?” he asked.

“Pie”, Cas smiled, with a knowing look at his husband. “That gets served a lot in this house!”

Dean would have objected to that, but it was true. And Cas had somehow found the time to prepare and bake one of his amazing apple pies, which left Dean so happy that he didn't even notice the knowing look exchanged between his husband and prospective son across the table as he moaned over his slice. Or the shared eye-roll.


	29. Sunday 29th April

“I think we should cut back on the collar.”

They are lying in bed that afternoon, Mrs. Andrews having just driven off with a reluctant Ben. Cas had actually snarled at Dean once the car had gone, and mounted him in the corridor before letting him make it to the bed. Dean stares blearily at his husband.

“Ben”, he says with a sigh. “I suppose we can't have him coming home from school and finding me naked and collared when he's about to do his homework.”

“Or bringing a friend home unexpectedly”, Cas agrees. “That would definitely be one for the PTA!”

Dean shudders.

“But there will be sleepovers, summer camp, longer school trips”, Cas reminds him. “It will be so much more special then. And intense. In the meantime, I got you this.”

He hands Dean a leather bracelet.

“It has my name on it in Hebrew”, he explains. “For those times when Ben is just out at school or elsewhere for the day, you can wear that, and I'll know exactly what you want. And I will be giving it to you! Thoroughly!”

Dean shudders again.

“How about a tester sample?” he suggests hopefully.

Cas just gives him a Look, which in itself is almost enough to make his husband come then and there.

+~+~+

“They're very sappy”, Ben tells Mrs. Andrews as she waits at the lights by the the main road. “Castiel is smart, but he is a teacher worse luck, though he teaches grown-ups. He's very strict, and he has kind eyes. I like it when he smiles.”

“And his husband?” Mrs. Andrews asks. Ben snorts.

“Dean is so owned”, he says with all the disdain of a three-year-old, “though he pretends he isn't. And they way they look at each other is so yucky, all goo-goo eyes. Grown-ups!”

His social worker narrowly suppresses a smile at his disdain. She is pleased that the visit had gone so well.

“Next time then, we may try a longer visit, perhaps one or two weeks”, she offers. “Would you like that Ben?”

“Yes please!”

She smiles at his obvious enthusiasm.


	30. Monday 30th April

Dean was not the sort of person who got into a total panic just because his husband turned up unexpectedly at the garage one lunchtime. And if any of his co-workers smirked, they'd be having an unexpected encounter with a wrench sometime later that day! 

“I can't stay”, Cas said. “I have a lecture this afternoon, and an office session before that. But Mrs. Andrews phoned me about Ben.”

Dean was even more alarmed. “Did he not like us?” he asked worriedly.

“He loved us”, Cas beamed. “Mrs. Andrews wants to arrange a longer visit this summer, whilst I'm off from college. I suggested the last two weeks.”

“Why not the first two?” Dean asked. “I'm off all that month.”

“You wanted to do a road trip this year, remember?” Cas pointed out. “A last fling as a couple, before we become three.”

Damn dust in the garage, making Dean's eyes water like that. Thankfully Cas didn't seem to notice.

“But Ben won't move in immediately”, Dean pointed out.

“His grandparents have secured a retirement place”, Cas told him. “They can move in at the end of November, and they do not wish to delay as there is a risk the place may go to someone else. If Ben is not placed somewhere when they do move, he goes into the system.”

“Not our son!” Dean said firmly.

Cas stared at him until he realized what he'd just said, and blushed heartily.

“I'd better be getting back”, Cas said with a smile. “Daddy!”

He gave Dean a gentle kiss, but the mechanic was still trying to process that last word, and all its repercussions. Daddy! He didn't even see Cas leave, until Bobby's pointed cough snapped him back to reality.

He spent the whole afternoon smiling.

+~+~+

Dean's day looked set to end poorly when he arrived home and found their English neighbor waiting for him on his front drive.

“I spoke to Benny”, he said quietly. “He seems to be of the opinion that I might be interested in your husband.”

Dean was (fairly) sure he could take the man if necessary, but he knew any violence on his part would bring down The Wrath Of Cas™, which he might not survive.

“Yeah”, he said sullenly. “So?”

The Englishman grinned.

“There is one guy in the neigborhood who I saw when I first came here”, he said. “He's both gorgeous and gay.”

Dean was not gonna hit him. Probably. 

“And blessedly single.”

Dean blinked.

“Besides”, his neighbor continued, “your husband scares the crap out of me!”

Dean laughed.


End file.
